


not ugly

by ancientglowstick



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Lesbians in Space, Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, No Lesbians Die, Useless Lesbians, a sprinkle of angst, bugborg, it probably doesn't need to be teen, lots of emphasis on inner beauty, mentions of drax and Thanos if that's a thing people care about, space lesbians, that's why it's teen, vague references to emotional abuse, whatever, yes that's the cutest ship name ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21869413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancientglowstick/pseuds/ancientglowstick
Summary: Mantis and Nebula converse on the golden steps of Ego's house, during the events of GOTG Vol. 2. They find they have more in common than they believed, and that if beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they are both Aphrodite.
Relationships: Gamora & Mantis (Marvel), Gamora & Nebula (Marvel), Mantis & Nebula (Marvel), Mantis/Nebula (Marvel)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	not ugly

“Gamora told me you were talking to Drax.”

Nebula marches down golden steps, trying to soften her footsteps. She sits abruptly. On the edge of a stair, purposefully too far to touch. The metal on her face curves like a crescent moon around her eye. It catches the light, shining as she shifts her weight. 

Mantis, never oblivious, always kind, ignores Nebula’s discomfort. She is trying, and that’s what matters.

“Yes.” Mantis smiles with her whole body. The toes of her boots pick up and wiggle just a little. Her antenna flex, and the feathery petals on the ends bend toward her ears. “He said I was ugly.” Her nose scrunches in the silliest, prettiest way. “So the people who love me are telling the truth. He says it is a good thing.”

“You are not ugly,” Nebula replies, too quickly and too sternly. “Drax is an idiot and a lowlife.”

“He is not an idiot! Drax is kind. He is brave and honest.” Mantis pauses for a moment, twirling her fingers. She looks at Nebula, then back at the steps. “Like you.”

“Me? You are naive.” The daughter of Thanos scoffs, and pulls an iridescent knife from a hidden sheath in her arm. She runs one blue finger down the blade. It draws blood. She does not wince. “You are the idiot.”

Mantis’ neck flushes and she shrinks. Her shoulders pull forward, like they’ll shield her from the cutting words. Nebula’s and Ego’s alike. Be quiet and nice and do what you’re told. She disappears into the golden stairs.

A drop of royal blue blood bruises the beautiful color. Nebula looks up to find Mantis caved in on herself. Setting her jaw, Nebula abandons the knife and slides slightly closer, resting the weight on her human hand. She flirts with reaching out the cybernetic one, but draws it back.

“I’m...” Nebula starts. Mantis glances up, antennae twitching. Nebula looks directly ahead. Saying the words is hard enough. Looking her in the eyes is impossible. She can’t get there yet. She will. “I’m sorry. You are not an idiot.”

Mantis smiles, a little broken and a little thankful at the same time. She seems too soft and sweet for all her suffering. Her cheeks are shiny. She wipes at them with a green cuff.

“Thank you.”

They sit in close silence for a moment on those heavenly golden steps, watching wind redecorate the bubbles in the cloudless blue sky. It is beautiful. They are beautiful.

“I do think you are kind,” Mantis offers, looking at a vengeful assassin. “You are kind to me often.”

“And I do not think you are ugly,” says Nebula, looking at an orphaned alien. “You are beautiful to me.” She takes in a sharp breath. “Often,” she adds, to soften the reveal. Mantis giggles, and her nose scrunches again. Nebula cracks a measured smile reminiscent of a flower just beginning to break through a winter frost. Mantis offers her small hand and silently asks a very bold, very heavy question.

_Do you trust me?_

Nebula takes her free hand, her metal hand, and gently interlocks their fingers.

“What’s going on?”

Gamora’s voice rings out from the palace above. With her boundaries at their lowest point in years, Nebula recoils from shock, or shame, or both. Mantis turns to face Gamora, eyebrows furrowed and head slightly bowed. She steals a look at Nebula, who grips the knife like a lifeline. Instead of her hand. Mantis breaks the silence.

“Nebula is teaching me many things, like I am not ugly.”

Gamora’s eyes flick between them. The door closes with a metallic bang. The stair-dwellers jump. Gamora raises a silver-tinged eyebrow, but decides to leave the matter un-addressed.

“Mantis, can you show us where we’ll be staying?”

Mantis stands dutifully; Nebula, sharply. And just like that, the magic of the golden staircase is broken. The unkind, the ugly, and the unassuming leave the truth behind.


End file.
